


Please Don't Burn The Witches

by PurplePluto



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Don't worry they'll die out after one or two chapters, Eventual QPR Analogical, Eventual Rociet, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Its rated T mostly because I like swearing and don't trust myself, Princey is actually a prince, Some vague christianity refrences, Vaguely medieval times babey, Witchcraft, tags will be updated eventually, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-07-27 02:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePluto/pseuds/PurplePluto
Summary: Witchcraft is openly hated and 100% illegal, but that doesn't stop four unlikely friends from gaining inexplicable powers. It's the fantasy/superhero au that no one asked for.





	1. Amaryllis

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea was bouncing around my head for a while and I decided to run with it. I really don't know how long it's going to be, so watch out I guess. Fun fact! I really don't know how to write Roman's POV but hey I tried.  
Hope y'all like it and feel free to shout/talk/communicate at me in the comments.

Political diplomacy meetings were absolute trash, and anyone who said otherwise could personally fight Roman. Yes, they were important, and yes they come with being royalty, but they were _so _ _ boring.  _ Always the same, in some meeting room or dining hall. Not that there was much of a difference, seeing as when there  _ was  _ food he wasn’t allowed to eat much of it, lest someone ask him a question in the middle or provide any form of distraction whatsoever. 

Sure it made sense for his older brother Remy to be there, he was the crown prince and had to learn all he could. However, he was the youngest, and therefore had no political obligations to sit in silence while his parents and brother talked to some king or duke or whatever. When he was younger, he attended both as a form of babysitting and a weird form of distraction, as usually the guest would start cooing at the baby or toddler. Now, as the young man he was, had no reason to be there, yet his attendance remained the same. 

Expectations were the same too, be quiet unless spoken to and look pleasant. Don’t present any opinions that could result in an argument, look responsible, and put up with it when foreign leaders try to pawn you off to the nearest princess. They were terrible and stiff and awkward to be at. And Roman was forced into another one.

Roman couldn’t even track the conversation anymore, not that they would include him in it anyway. They were with the king of some kingdom from across the Deep Woods, sitting to a small lunch in the freshly cleaned and lavish dining hall. If you were not used to it, it was rather grandiose, with polished silver and jewels hanging from the ceiling, delicate china plating delicious food. 

Roman was sitting as still as he could, trying to ignore a tingling feeling that had been bothering him for weeks. It felt as if there were sparks cascading under his skin and flames down his throat.  _ I should get that checked out at some point.  _ But for now, he just had to ignore it. Speaking of ignoring things-

“Prince Roman, I heard you were training to become a part of your royal military,” the king of somewhere asked him from across the table.

“Yes your Highness.” He was probably missing a practice for this too. Oh joy.

“You seem to be doing a rather excellent job, magical even. Are you sure you don’t favor the mystic arts?”

Roman winced. Witchcraft was deemed illegal and immoral since before he was even born. Consorting with devils and the like was  _ obviously  _ wrong. Not to mention, his country had a… difficult relationship with witch finding. One every few years would pop up and make half the kingdom a complete mess. Things were different in other parts of the world because of reasons Roman never bothered to learn.

“Sir, I’m afraid magic is less tolerated in this kingdom,” Roman responded, painfully polite. 

“Ahh, yes, now I remember your odd fascination with witches. Quite harsh what happened last year,” The King said, shrugging as if witchcraft were some trivial matter he had simply forgotten about.

“Harsh but necessary,” Roman muttered in an attempt to be quiet. Apparently, it was not enough, as The King turned his attention back on Roman. A flash of panic surged around the table.

“Necessary, you say? How so?”

“Witches gain their powers from the devil, don’t they? We can’t have  _ demonic beings  _ running loose around the kingdom.”

“Yes, that may be true, however you must think of the  _ potential.  _ Beings who can control the elements and summon what they please are bound to be useful as laborers. What’s better than a set of chefs who don’t even need a fire to cook?”

If Roman had taken three seconds and read the room, he would have noticed how nervous his mother was starting to look, her eyes just a little wider. He would have noticed his father’s mouth becoming even sterner than usual, or the slight glare in his eye. He would have noticed his brother’s silent yet sharp mouthing of his name, or the mix or nervousness and annoyance that flitted around his eyes. If Roman had bothered to take one look around at his family, he would have shut up then and there, letting the conversation and lunch go on peacefully.

Roman however, did no such thing. Instead, Roman stared straight at the king and firmly said, “What use are they as  _ laborers  _ and  _ craftsmen  _ if they could hurt people.”

“Child, I think as an actual ruler I have more experience than you on how to run a kingdom,” The king said with a dismissive wave of his hand. It was if the rest of the room had faded away, the sparks under his skin turning to fire, shooting like lightning through his veins. Roman refused to be ignored like that.

“I may not be  _ king, _ but I at least know how to protect my damn kingdom,” Roman practically yelled, standing up and slamming his hands on the table. Every spark and flame rushed to his back and quickly dissipated. “We  _ cannot  _ allow threats of that proportion to run wild, lest they destroy everyone in their wake.”

The moment he dared to look up at everyone, all eyes were on him. Everyone seemed as if they were in shock, eyes wide open and mouths agape. Even the servants stopped to look at him. His older brother Remy, who he had definitively never seen as anything other than mildly inconvenienced or in his fake royal persona, was staring at him in abject horror. He didn’t understand, until he felt a bit of warmth brush his arm.

Turning his head, he saw a giant pair of wings from behind him, attaching to his back. They curved slightly around him, covered in tiny, shimmering scarlet scales. Reaching back, he noticed that through his newly severed shirt, he could feel the scales had spread to his neck and back. They were beautiful. They were horrible. They had to be witchcraft.

As he noticed his family’s shock turning to anger, Roman did the only thing he could think to do in a moment of crisis. Run.

Blazing past guards, servants, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be in his way, he ran through corridor after corridor till he made his way out of the door. Once he was outside the palace, he realized he didn’t know what to do, or even what was going on.  _ Why would this happen to me? Was I cursed? But who would curse someone like me, the people love me? _

_ Oh no. _

There was one person who would curse him in a heartbeat. One  _ witch  _ who would curse him. And of course he had to know how to  _ break  _ the curse... 

It appeared to be time to pay an old acquaintance a visit.


	2. Bittersweet Nightshade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman encounters a very (rightfully) grumpy old frenemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so a warning for past attempted murder? It makes sense in context I promise. Also, unimportant, but I just realized I made Roman a literal dragon witch and I didn't mean to do that.  
Feel free to comment if you want.

Fortunately for Roman, it was easy enough to get onto a path that wouldn’t have too many people able to see him. That didn’t stop a small mob from forming at first, but he was able to run away. The ability those people had to turn on someone… Who was he kidding he would have done the same less than an hour ago. But here he was nonetheless.  
It was a smaller trail, hedged by bushes and trees that signalled a deep forest nearby. It was surprisingly lush and green, with only a few houses scattered through. Houses that were mercifully empty, or at least filled with people who weren’t outside.   
Maybe he would make it out alive.  
His princely clothing was ever so slightly torn and ripped, especially near his legs and arms. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to get any better, seeing as from what Roman could recall, the man he was visiting practically lived in a cave. Which would be a weird living choice, if it wasn’t totally his fault.  
No fuck that, this guy cursed him, no pity for him.   
He considered flying, assuming the stupid wings had actual functions. While it would be faster, Roman really didn’t feel like falling to his death because he didn’t know how to use magical dragon wings.   
On the bright side, the forest did have a pretty exceptional view. The dark greens and browns were lit up beautifully by the soft gold of the sun. Birds flitted around trees and a few deer could be spotted in the distance. Though he had been through these parts, he only went with a mission to complete, and never had the time to appreciate it.

****  
The rushing sounds of a river filled Roman’s ears as he neared his destination. Just a little bit past a dark cave in the side of a cliff, stood a small shack. It was made of the same dark wood as the rest of the trees, and constructed mostly of logs. It looked rather good for being built by the witch himself, but could definitely use some repair. When he got to the door, he could practically see the marks where the tree had been cut.  
After knocking twice, the door slowly creaked open just enough to conceal his wings, revealing a slightly shorter man. He was dressed in plain dark clothes, with what appeared to be smudges of coal below his eyes. He stood at the door, arms crossed.  
“What do you want?” Virgil asked, his eyebrows raised. Was he really going to pretend he didn’t curse him?  
“You know very well what you did, witch,” Roman shouted, seeming more offended than angry. Virgil just rolled his eyes at the statement, eyes flitting behind him.  
“What, are you gonna try and drown me again? Or are you just kicking me out further? And where is the cavalry, don’t you usually have a guard or two?” Virgil asked, no more willing than before.  
“You should be banished again for what you’ve done. And of course I don’t have guards with me because I had to run away after you cursed me!” Roman pushed open the door, revealing the bright scarlet wings that refused to go away. Virgil’s eyes widened as he grabbed Roman by the wrist and pulled him inside, slamming the door closed.  
The inside of Virgil’s shack was best described as cozy, a couple of darkly colored chairs facing a table in slight need of repair. All the furniture was in the darker color scheme that Virgil tended to favor. All the deep purples and charcoal blacks were admittedly one of the reasons he was suspected to be a witch in the first place. There were also patches of cobwebs that just drove in the fact that he was a creepy cookie.  
“Princey, whatever that is I didn’t do it. How the hell could I have done it, I’m not a goddamn witch!” Virgil exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Although he looked angry, Virgil kept looking to the side, as if a person was actually there.   
“I suppose I should have known that, you did partially pass the test. But who else would have reason to curse me!” As Roman talked with his hands, his wings emulated, jerking wildly from side to side.  
“The only reason I would curse you is because of that test. And it was a bullshit test anyway, to tie me up and see if I’d drown. Who does that?” Virgil exclaimed. Even while shouting, he seemed… distracted. Although Roman couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  
“If you were a witch you wouldn’t have drowned, you would have floated. Granted, you would have been burned at the stake, but that is beside the point!” Roman stated, his head tilted upwards in indignation.  
Virgil crossed his arms defensively and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t drown because the ropes came off underwater and I can swim. And I know from personal experience that witches do not float, why the hell would that even be a thing?”  
“How would you know unless you were a witch?” Roman grinned, finally happy to have the upper hand. Virgil sputtered for a moment before resignation took over his face.  
“Fine, you caught me. Around a week ago I- I started seeing ghosts.”  
“I knew it! You’re a witch.” Roman laughed triumphantly, before realization hit. “But if you can just see ghosts, how did you curse me?”  
“I still didn’t curse you Princey, don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” Virgil sighed, his anger wearing off.  
“Maybe you were cursed as well! We have to find out who did this and make them reverse it, so that I can stop running away from the castle!” Roman declared, his sense of princely justice reinstated. Virgil’s eyes went wide as he looked to the side.  
“Yes Catherine, of course I understand what that means,” Virgil hissed, before turning back to Roman, “Princey, did you run away? They’re going to try and retrieve you.”  
“We all let you run off into the forest.”  
“But you’re a prince and have actual confirmed magical powers” Virgil said, exasperatedly. Roman’s face fell as he realized his mistake. Of course they would come for him, he was the youngest prince and part of the guard. The problem is, once they found him… Well there might not be any ‘him’ left to speak of.   
“Then we have to leave right? You’re the only other person who even might be a witch that we didn’t burn at the stake, so they’d probably look here first.”  
Virgil’s eyes widened, a bit in gratitude a bit in surprise. “For once, you’re actually be right about something. Off the top of my head, Logan and Patton are the only people who would work, and we don’t know how much time we have, so we need to leave.” Virgil walked over to his cabinet and pulled out a sack and some clothes. Sure, they were just multiple copies of the outfit he was wearing, a purple tunic and coat (likely dyed with berries that grew all around the kingdom) and black pants and boots. Roman probably should have thought to bring extra clothing, however he did have to leave quickly, so it was probably fine.  
“Who are Logan and Patton?” Roman asked, walking over to where Virgil was crouched.  
“They’re brothers who live in this abandoned cottage. Lo studies the stars, says there’s more out there than we could ever imagine. Pat loves to cook, grows his own ingredients but goes into town when he needs something. I visit them sometimes, they’re really nice, and don’t care much about magic. Also, most people assume the building is abandoned, so we should be safe,” Virgil said, tying his sack closed.   
“Pretty well thought through for off the top of your head, Joan D’snark.”  
“Who?”  
“Joan D ’arc, from a few years ago? Have you not heard of her?”   
“No?”  
“Nevermind then, shall we be off?”  
Virgil and Roman stood at the door, nothing to bring with them but a small sack of clothing. Even then, the insistence to bring that meant they could be leaving for days, weeks, months even. But still it was a necessary evil to stay safe when they could be executed at any moment.  
“I think we shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's cave shack is basically VLD Keith's desert shack reflavoured.


	3. Delphinium and Flax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Roman do a pretty bad job of communicating with Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been a while, but it's time for the glasses boys. Side note: I have no clue what I'm doing.

They were maybe 20 minutes from Virgil’s shack, and they were already about to kill each other. If Roman made one sharp movement, Virgil would nearly tackle him to get him to stop. Likewise, Roman was about ready to push Virgil the next time he took 5 minutes to step over a slightly prickly bush. Virgil _ lived here _how was he not more comfortable?

“Princey, you have to be _ careful,” _Virgil said through gritted teeth, forcefully grabbing the sleeve of his coat to stop him from running. For someone so spooky, he sure was cautious. 

They trudged through the forest, trying not to interact as best they could. Stepping around a few large logs, they could see a small river with a stone bridge. As they looked over the side, seeing silvery fish and smooth stones rush by in the stream.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it,” Virgil said, turning around to face Roman.

“Are you going to keep bringing that up?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You tried to drown me, I’d say this is a fair amount of bringing it up,” Virgil said. As he continued to walk backwards, he failed to notice a rock next to his foot. Roman reached out and grabbed his shirt, Virgil slightly bent backwards.

“Don’t go falling for me,” Roman said with a smile and a wink. Virgil simply rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Fortunately for you Sir Sing-A-Lot, I _ can’t _ fall for you, or anyone else,” Virgil said, sweeping Roman’s knee. Roman nearly fell over, but his wings caught his fall by quickly flapping overtime. _ So his wings _ did _ have a use. _

“Joke’s on you, I like that nickname,” Roman declared as they continued. 

Soon they lost track of time walking. At least until they encountered a particular patch of spiky shrubbery that caught Roman’s clothing. Virgil simply stood there, laughing at him like the cruel, cruel person he was. 

“Come on Princey, we’re almost there.”

Soon, they approached a small cottage-like building, light blue in color. It was most unique in its roof, which was flattened off with wooden planks. It certainly wasn’t in the state of disrepair that Virgil’s shack was in, but it definitely looked worn. It was as if it were abandoned for many years before someone lived in it.

“Ahh, Virgil, you’re back,” A man in glasses said, as he sat with parchment scattered around him. He was dressed formally in darker shades of blue. He seemed like a rather meticulous person, despite the mess surrounding him.

“Great to see you again Lo, but I’m afraid I’m not alone this time,” Virgil said, gesturing to Roman. He didn’t know what was more surprising, the fact that he was the youngest prince of Ranum, or the fact that the youngest prince of Ranum was sporting massive dragon wings. Either way, the man was startled, and Roman swore he could see miniature lightning shoot off from his fingertips.

“Your highness, what brings you here, with wings no less?” Logan asked, confusion scrunching up his face as he looked back and forth between Roman and his wings.

“Short dark and spooky over here told me that you might be able to provide shelter for a while, and you can call me Roman,” Roman said, side eyeing Virgil, “Which means you can stop calling me Princey.”

Virgil put his hand to his chin in mock contemplation. “No, I don't think I will,” Virgil said in a condescending tone before turning back to Logan, “Princey thinks he was cursed by someone, and I just so happened to be able to see ghosts.”

“Odd, would you like to come inside to discuss further?” Logan offered, still formal as ever. He picked up his loose papers, haphazardly carrying it with the side of his arm. Opening the door, he beckoned them inside. The two followed the man inside, to find a small parlor and kitchen. 

Virgil and Roman took a seat at an old wooden table. It was small and round, as to not interfere with the rest of the smallish surroundings.

“Now, could you please explain your, um, situation,” Logan said, sitting down with them.

“Well, I was having lunch with another king, Ghaen’s I think, and I suddenly sprouted wings. I thought Virgil was the one to do it,” Roman recounted.

“But I didn’t, and for the past week or so, I’ve been able to see ghosts, which are surprisingly common around here,” Virgil said, cutting off Roman. Logan nodded along, as if taking mental notes.

“Fascinating,” Logan said, something clicking in his head, “You see in the past week I have found myself able to do some sort of summoning with winds and the like, although I have not done anything to acquire these skills. Perhaps this is related to the both of your abilities?”

Roman couldn’t help but be impulsively sickened by the thought. He was far too used to witches being immoral and evil. 

“Logan, that sounds really cool, but I need to ask a favor of you, can Roman and I stay with you and Patton, just until we know we won't be arrested for witchcraft?” Virgil asked. Logan thought for a moment, before answering as if the answer was obvious.

“Of course, I imagine the risk of execution is extremely heightened for a prince, and Virgil you are always welcome here. I think, given the legal opportunity, Patton would have already adopted you. You are both welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Roman felt reassured by Logan’s words, when the door opened, revealing a similarly spectacled man dressed in a lighter blue carrying a basket of breads and whatnot. 

“Logan, you won’t _ believe _ what I heard in town! The _ prince- _” The man said, setting down the basket on the table and turning to face Logan, instead winding up looking straight at Roman.

“So it’s true! And Virgil came to visit again!”

The excitable man sat down at the table, growing a small red flower in his palm and giving it to a slightly stunned Roman.

“Patton, Virgil and Roman were going to stay with us, and I thought it would be fine. I assume you have no qualms with this?” Logan asked, now an oddly stark contrast to the bubbly man Roman had just met.

“Of course kiddos, you know you’re always welcome,” Patton said, smiling. Before anyone could respond, a loud voice spoke from outside.

“_Finally _ you’re all togeth- where are you?”


	4. Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Boys get a visit from Tomathy himself, and he has a Lot to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy guys gals and pals. So I know its been like four months, but I FINALLY had enough time to finish this chapter. Things have just been really busy, and I had Other Stuff going on. This is probably lesson one in Don't Expect Things From Me. Anyway, I hope this chapter is good, no matter how late it is.

“Thanks Lo,” The man said, standing in the middle of the cottage and dusting off leaves. Patton told Logan to let the man in and honestly he couldn’t tell if it was a mistake or not.

He looked like them, an amalgamation of their features, with Virgil’s cheekbones, Roman’s height, Patton’s eyes, and his build. It was as if they had all been averaged out and put in one person.

“Who the hell are you?” Virgil asked from the corner of the room, arms crossed. He looked… Less than pleased with the new man, whoever he was.

“Ah, Virgil! My name’s Thomas, it’s so good to meet you!” Thomas said, almost as cheerful as Patton. Virgil opened his mouth to speak, but Thomas started first, as if sensing what he was about to say, “I know your name the same way I know all of your names. I’m a deity!”

A deity. A deity was a god. This man, this person, this  _ thing,  _ was a  _ god.  _ Logan could barely wrap his head around it. Thomas walked to the center of the room and sat on the table, arms out expectantly.

“I’m assuming you have questions?” he asked, gesturing to all of them.

“So you’re… god?” Roman asked, clearly confused. Thomas made a noise like “ehhhhh” and waved his hands.

“Not exactly, at least not in the traditional sense. I’m kind of like… Assistant manager of the universe.”

“The universe? You mean it’s real? The planets and everything? My work hasn’t been meaningless?” Logan knew that logically he shouldn’t trust this man. Anyone could walk up and claim to run the world, but  _ the universe?  _ That was his life’s work, trying to prove just how much was beyond this planet. It was infinitesimal. 

“Yeah! I was surprised to see just how much you’d figured out, which is why I gave you the power I did. You have the sand storms of Mars, the ice spurts of Europa, all of it.”

“Wait, so  _ you’re  _ responsible for all of this,” Virgil said, stepping in between Logan and Thomas, gesturing to the four of them, “Our… what? Magic? Are you the reason I see ghosts now?”

Roman’s eyes widened. “You’re responsible for witches! How  _ dare-” _

“Only some witches, technically,” Thomas cut him off, preventing what was likely a large rant from the Prince, “I can give some people magic, but I don’t do it often. There are other ways, though. For example, some are born with it, because they’re like a fifth dragon or elf. Then there’s… well… Dark magic. People seek that out themselves and rip out the magic from the universe. According to my coworker Joan, it’s “very fucking upsetting” but I think they’re just being dramatic.”

Logan could have sworn that Virgil flinched at the mention of dark magic, but no one else seemed to notice. Thomas spoke up again.

“That being said, just because it’s ‘dark’ doesn’t mean those people are always evil. It just upsets the balance of the universe a teeny tiny bit and disrupts stuff big time. It’s too strong and pulls the universe in the wrong way, like I have rules to follow for giving magic. I have to have balance, like the scheme of the elements that I chose for you guys.”

Logan looked around, trying to piece it together. Roman was fire, being a dragon. Patton was earth, with his plants. Logan was… air? It seemed that his natural disasters had much to do with the air. But Virgil…

“What do ghosts have to do with water? I suppose I can see Roman’s connection to fire and Patton’s connection to earth but what about Virgil?” Logan asked politely, adjusting his glasses to show he was serious.

“Water? Fire? Earth? Those aren’t elements,” Thomas said, laughing, “Anyways, I have a quest for you,” Thomas cleared his throat and lowered his voice, “There are dark witches running around, and they are planning something that could potentially end. The. World. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to take these dark witches and remove them from power. Or, at least, you know, get them to not try and destroy the universe.”

Logan could have been going insane. Or dreaming. That would explain why the prince was in his dining room all while being (poorly) explained to by a man claiming to manage the  _ universe  _ and having given them magic. Magic that was just about illegal.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Thomas said, grinning.

“Fun? It sounds dangerous! We could get killed- not even just by those dark witches! Princey over here has been working on killing witches off since forever and this can’t be the only kingdom trying this, and anyways-”

“Chill out Hocus Pocus! It’s an adventure! The danger is part of the fun!” Roman said, leaning forward on a chair. The prince was much different than Logan thought, much less regal and dignified. Not great but he could work with it.

“Virgil does have a point, we should certainly take our well-being into account. That being said, I do have a few questions about the capabilities of our powers that have not even been addressed by any of you. For example, what  _ exactly  _ can we do? Can we hurt ourselves using them?” Logan pondered, starting to pace around.

“Ok Logan, slow down a bit. Yes you can get hurt using them. They’re like a muscle, in a way. And it’s hard to know what you’ll be able to do, because I have to give out your powers bit by bit.” Thomas said, desperately trying to be helpful. “They’re a few kingdoms over, so you might want to leave soon. Was that all the questions you had?”

They all collectively gave some form of “no”, but Thomas smiled and started walking away anyways.

“Great! I’ll be sure to visit you at some point, whenever my coworker Joan lets me. Bye guys!”

And just like that, he disappeared into thin air. Gone as quickly as he came. Everyone was a little confused, even Logan’s brother Patton, who Logan just knew was itching to ease the tension. Then Patton spoke up.

“I guess I’ll start packing, then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel like it:  
What are the elements? Wrong answers only.


End file.
